7. You Can Touch It

7 YOU CAN TOUCH IT

Koen

Forty-eight hours of living with my wife had proved to be informative. Not that I'd erase any second of it, just maybe rewind and try harder to pick up on a few things she found annoying. Such as putting the toilet seat down after you finished peeing. Only after a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over the top of the shower while I was in it, did I come to understand how big of a deal it really was.

Next, do not even attempt to have a civilized conversation with Jade in the morning before she’d drunk her weight in coffee, unless the answers you were looking for came in the form of grunts and glares.

But I’d also been privy to her caring, more soft side. Like how she made sure we ate at least one meal a day together. Or the way she snuck an extra pack of cookies or bag of chips into Jett’s lunch bag after he finished packing it. She was so damn selfless, never asking for anything in return. It was one of the qualities that drew me to her in the first place. Even if it took me a lifetime, I’d figure out a way to spoil her the way she deserved .

After parking my Camaro in an open spot near the FBI satellite office, I grabbed my briefcase and the travel mug of coffee, snorting at the memory of Jade’s hesitation as she handed it to me on my way out the door.

“What’s the matter, Angel? You don’t want to share your precious coffee with me?”

“I’m trying to decide if you’ve earned it.”

“How about this?”

Sliding an arm around her waist, she placed her hands on my biceps for balance as I lifted her off her feet to meet my mouth. I coaxed her lips apart with the tip of my tongue, slipping it inside to tangle with hers. She tasted sweet, like her French vanilla creamer and pancake syrup, a heady combination.

All too soon, we broke apart.

“Damn,” she gulped. “I should’ve shared my coffee with you sooner.”

Barking out a laugh, I kissed her again.

The atmosphere in the office was frigid as I waltzed through the doors. Possibly due to the two agents facing off in the center of the room.

“Go over it again.”

“What crawled up your ass this morning, Noah?”

“Again, Lanie,” he barked.

With hands on her hips and a helluva lot of sass infused in her response, she obliged.

“I’ll be at the bar, sipping a delicious chardonnay at six-fifty so when Brandon gets there ten minutes later, I’ll be in the perfect position to literally bump into him on my way to the bathroom.”

“Then what?”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” she fumed.

From my vantage point, not a soul was willing to intervene in the shitshow playing out before us, which honestly had been a long time in the making. Keaton and Duncan appeared more amused than concerned as they watched from less than ten feet away, leaning against the far wall with their legs crossed in front of them. Nelson—God love him—was attempting to distract the two DEA agents by pointing out something on his computer screen. Unfortunately, their newest acquisition was seconds away from coming apart at the seams.

“Deadly,” he growled.

“No one can predict the way the night will go. Not even an all-knowing control freak like you.”

Unable to stand by any longer, I stepped between them. “That’s enough.”

Noah turned a pleading eye to me. “She needs to know this plan backward and forward, Koen.”

“ She is standing right here, ass. And she knows how to do her fucking job.”

“I’m not willing to watch you go into a dangerous situation until I’m positive we didn’t miss something.”

Tension coiled tighter, to the point I waited for an explosion, or at the very least, I figured Lanie would take a swing. Neither happened. Instead, she lowered her voice to just above a whisper.

“This isn’t about you, Noah.”

If I hadn’t been standing right there, I would’ve missed it. He flinched. Then, without another word, he left.

Waverly strolled out of her office, having missed the action, and joined our group. “Lanie. It’s time to get wired up.”

“Stubborn dick.” She shook her head before following our RAC .

“Those two need to fuck it out,” Keaton said, coming to my side. “Speaking of…how’s married life?”

Game time.

Noah was right about one thing. Our tactic for Lanie “accidentally” running into Brandon Little could go sideways fast. Guys like him didn’t trust newcomers easily, which was why the DEA came up with the idea of using the old friend approach. Unlike most undercover operations, the objective wasn’t to infiltrate his business. Chances were high that he still had ties in Colorado and would be able to see straight through any bullshit cover story we created for Lanie. Instead, the hope was she’d get close enough—as friends only—to potentially see or overhear important information, which would further their case. It was a crapshoot, a shot in the dark, but it was too late to switch directions.

All eyes and ears would be covering her ass for the initial meeting. After that, the drug guys and their team would take point, with Noah and Waverly combining as Lanie’s personal backup.

Noah was a profiler. His brain worked in ways none of us stood a chance of comprehending. He was impeccable at analyzing criminal behavior, which made him essential to this case. Waverly, who typically didn’t get involved in this side of an investigation, had insisted on partnering with him. My best guess? Our RAC wasn’t blind to the obvious attraction blistering between her two agents. She’d positioned herself—smartly—right in the mix in order to keep a finger on his pulse.

Jade was working ’til four and I’d already warned her not to wait up, but after the events of the weekend, the need to check on her rode me hard.

Me: Hey, Angel. How’s your toe?

The swelling had gone down to the point she could put a shoe on without pain, however, the bruising had extended halfway up her foot and was a nasty purple color. My stubborn girl insisted she’d be okay when I suggested she take the day off.

Jade: Hi. It’s fine. Only a little sore.

God, I hated that word. Fine. My mom used it on endless repeat after Dad died. If I’d learned one thing during those months and years, it was when a woman said they were fine, they were anything but.

Me: Sit down and get your weight off of it every once in a while.

Jade: Have you been talking to Henley?

Me: No, why?

Jade: She’s been saying the same thing.

Me: We both care about you.

Three little dots appeared on the screen, then disappeared.

Me: You’ve got a whole team of people on your side now, Jade. You’re going to have to get used to it eventually.

Jade: I know. It’s just strange, in the best way.

Changing the subject, so as not to overwhelm her, I decided to begin the process of wooing my wife.

Me: Any plans the rest of the week?

Jade: I’m hanging out with Henley later, and I work every day except Wednesday. Why?

Me: Keep your evenings open for me. I’ll take care of dinner and the entertainment.

Jade: Oh boy. Sounds ominous. Do you even know how to cook?

Me: I guess we’ll find out. I’ll see you in the morning.

Jade: Stay safe.

Me: I’ll always come home to you.

I typed out the words without a second thought. It was a phrase I’d heard my father say every time he left the house, and its meaning had escaped me until right then. He hadn’t been talking about the physical building, he meant the people inside of it. My mom, Riley, Willow, and I were his home, the same way Jade and Jett had somehow become mine .

Jade

“I’ve never been more grateful that Keaton is working late,” Henley said, taking a giant bite of her cheesesteak.

“Yeah, right.” I snickered.

After work, we stopped at Gino’s Pizzeria to pick up dinner, then headed to her and Keaton’s penthouse apartment. Jett was studying for a geometry test at Phoebe’s, so I had a few hours until he’d be home. It was the first time I’d been invited over and I jumped at the opportunity to see where they lived. The place had signs of Keaton’s wealth sprinkled throughout, though not enough to be ostentatious.

“What? I’m serious. I needed time with my best friend.”

“You just saw me two days ago.”

“Yeah, but we weren’t alone.”

What she really meant was she hadn’t had the opportunity to grill me about my impromptu wedding.

“Go ahead, Henley. Ask away.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m an open book.”

I’d just taken a bite of my gooey sandwich, then nearly choked when she blurted, “How hot is the sex?”

“Oh shit.” She pounded on my back. “I should’ve started with something less personal.”

“You think?” I coughed, grabbing for my glass of water.

She threw her arms out to the side. “I’m curious. Sue me.”

“It’s not like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t…”

“Oh. OH.” Her eyes widened with realization. “That man looks at you like you’re his last meal. Have you friend-zoned him?”

“Friend-zoned?”

“Don’t play coy, Miss Romance Book Editor. You know exactly what I’m alluding to.”

“I’m suddenly regretting our friendship,” I deadpanned.

“Nah, you love me.”

“Then why are you suggesting our lack of marital relations are my fault?”

“Marital relations?” She busted out laughing. “What are you? Eighty?”

“Are you going to make fun of me or help me figure out how to convince my husband to sleep with me?”

“Jade.” She touched my hand. “Trust me. Koen wants you just as much as you want him.”

“I think I’m in love with him.”

I’d barely been able to admit my feelings to myself, let alone verbalize them. Yet as I said the words out loud, warmth spread through me, heating my body like a wool blanket on a cold night.

Her gaze landed on mine. “Well, duh. Anyone with working eyes can see that. You and Koen were inevitable. Just give it time.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Listen to your heart, Jade, and to hell with all the other noise creeping into your thoughts. Not every relationship is molded from the same slab of clay. Yes, you went from zero to married in six seconds, but from where I’m standing, the only thing you did was speed up the timeline.”

“Thank you, Henley. I’ve been driving myself crazy, overthinking every little thing.”

“You’re welcome.” She spun on the stool, taking another bite of her food. “Seriously though, don’t sweat the small stuff. I have a good feeling your marriage will turn out to be the best decision you’ve ever made.”

Deep down, I knew she was right. Koen fit effortlessly into my life, like he belonged. I fought it at first, the draw to be closer to him, chalking up my attraction to an unnatural infatuation. The only experience I had with a man—if you considered a clumsy, drunken night of sub-par sex experience—was four years ago, so I didn’t have a clue how to be in a normal relationship. Lord knew the only thing Bill and Trudy Trumble ever taught me was what not to do.

“So how’s the wedding planning going?” I dug into my sandwich with gusto, praying she’d pick up on my not-so-subtle switch in gears.

“It’s not. We can’t agree on a date.”

“Let me guess, Keaton wants the ceremony tomorrow?”

“Pretty much,” she mumbled around a mouthful of food.

“What date do you want?”

“Christmas. Well, not actually on Baby Jesus’s birthday, but within a few days.”

“It would be beautiful for sure.”

“Right? We could have the venue decorated like a winter wonderland.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Keaton doesn’t have the best memories surrounding Christmas.”

“Then give him new ones.”

The smells coming out of my kitchen were so enticing they were almost criminal. After a long day spent catering to the demands of customers at the diner, all I wanted was my comfy flannel pajamas and Koen. I missed him last night, more than I anticipated.

It had been close to ten by the time I got home from Henley’s. Jett was sound asleep in his room, and I had no idea how late Koen was going to be. Curling up on the couch with my laptop situated in front of me, I tried to focus on the latest manuscript I was editing while I waited for him to get home. Before long, my eyelids drifted shut and the next thing I knew, I woke up this morning in my bed with my computer plugged into the charger on top of my dresser. He must have carried me there and, dammit, I slept through it all.

Scattered across the countertops were bowls in every size, each filled with different chopped vegetables or a sauce of some kind. Koen was at the stove with his back to me, so I took the opportunity to really drink him in. He was tall, a formidable presence, yet I’d never felt safer. His blond hair had gotten a little longer these past few weeks, falling just below the base of his neck, showcasing the natural wave of the strands. My eyes roved down his sculpted back, landing on his jean-covered butt. It was one of his best features, besides his eyes or his smile. Hell, Koen Banks was the whole package and it seemed, at least for now, he was mine.

“You can touch it if you want.” His deep voice startled me.

“What?”

“My ass.” He spun around, unleashing a panty-melting grin.

Busted.

“Maybe another time.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“What’s all this?” I waved my hand through the air.

“Taco Tuesday.” He turned back to the skillet on the stove, giving the meat another stir. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable? Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes.”

My stomach protested loudly as I climbed the stairs gingerly, reminding me I hadn’t eaten more at lunch than a few fries and a couple of bites of potato salad.

Pausing outside of Jett’s door, I knocked, then waited for his okay before entering. He looked up from his laptop when the door creaked open.

“How was your test?” I asked from the threshold.

“I’m pretty sure I aced it.”

“Of course you did. I never had any doubts.”

His fingers danced lightly across the keyboard and his eyes drifted to the right; a clear sign he was nervous about something.

I moved then, sitting on the edge of the bed at his feet. “What’s wrong?”

“Is Koen here for good?”

Of all the questions he could’ve asked, this one threw me off balance.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s fair, but tell me this. Do you want him to stay?”

“Yes,” I responded with zero hesitation.

“Same. So try not to screw it up.”

Jett had grown close to Koen, closer than he had to anyone ever, and the knowledge he was prepared to fully accept him into our little family meant everything to me.

“Me?”

“Who else would I be talking about?”

“Why do you assume I’d be the one to mess it up? Your nasty farts and stinky feet could drive him away.”

Setting his computer to the side, he narrowed his eyes. “Take it back.”

“Never.” I smirked, knowing what was coming next .

He pounced, knocking us both to the side, tickling me mercilessly as I attempted to dodge his fingers. We both howled with laughter until we were breathless.

“I’m happy for you, Sis.”

“Thanks, brat.”